


A Necessary Lesson

by Paranormal_Shitness



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Adultery, Anakin has an unrealized fetish and Luminara knows what she’s doing, But I’m pretty sure this still counts as cheating lmao, Choking, Electro Stim, Electrocution, F/M, Force Choking, Hey guys I don’t think that’s what Electropoles are for, Just without the actual sex part, Obi-Wan is the only ounce of self control Anakin has ever had, Soft core porn without plot, and Padmé’s only ally in keeping Anakin from being stupid at all times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:01:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25696966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paranormal_Shitness/pseuds/Paranormal_Shitness
Summary: Obi-Wan’s managed to keep Anakin sheltered from most of his own sexuality but Luminara is happy to help shed some light on things for him.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker/Luminara Unduli, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker mentioned
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin forgets himself in front of Luminara and she has some concerns for his general safety practices.

It wasn’t as if it were an unusual situation. It had just caught him off guard enough that he hadn’t been in the state of mind to remember Master Unduli was watching him. One of the Zygerrian outlaws they were tracking had caught him by surprise and with Master Obi-Wan rounding up the rest of their quarry, his chosen course of action might have been a bit against the code. There was a hissing, sputtering sound as he clenched his fist around the distant feeling of his aggressor’s throat. It was a satisfying sound.The slaver’s feet jerked as they left the sand completely. His legs hung limp, hands twitching at his sides. It was almost indescribable, faint, in the peripherals of his senses. A deep echo in the base of his spine. Something like satisfaction.

If only he hadn’t forgotten Master Unduli, he might have spared himself the shame of letting anyone see that. And of course, the only appropriate response to the sound of her clearing her throat was veering suddenly into a spiral of quiet self resentment.

“Skywalker,” she said, tone carefully diplomatic even as his grip reflexively tightened on his catch. “Put him down now and I promise not to tell Master Kenobi what I just saw.”

Anakin swallowed as he did his best to gentle the Zygerrian back to the ground. The man’s knees buckled as his boots met the sand again and he half crumpled to his knees, hands clutching at his bare throat in attempt to relieve the pressure.

“Let him go,” Master Unduli bid him reasonably.

It was honestly a struggle even if the internal war he waged over it only lasted scant seconds. The Zygerrian sucked a desperate gasp into his abused lungs as Anakin dropped his hand, tipping forward onto his forearms and spluttering against the sand on his hands and knees at Anakin’s feet, deepening the Jedi’s shame as this display of blatant weakness reawakened that perverse sense of power he’d so thoughtlessly flirted with in full view.

Through the Force, he could feel Master Unduli examining him, shifting her fingers like a comb through the pages of emotion bared to her in that moment. “You have to be careful, Skywalker,” she told him, stepping up at his side. Her hand was warm against his shoulder, gentle. “A man could easily kill his target that way even when his orders were to take them alive.”

“I wasn’t going to kill him,” Anakin reasoned. “I had control.”

“For now,” she said, and her hand trailed along the leather of his shoulder guard as it dropped back to her side. “‘But playing with fire is always dangerous, Skywalker. Package him up. I’ll call Master Obi-Wan and have him collect your catch for us. Then we can discuss this more fully.”

Anakin could feel his shame solidifying as a hot brand laid across his face as he bent to cuff his quarry. “You’re about to get me in serious trouble,” he hissed as he jerked the slaver back onto his feet.

“You’re crazy,” the animal spat.

Down a ways from their position, Master Unduli stood like a pillar of black marble against the washed out landscape of Jakku’s dessert surface, hailing his master via hologram.

“If the Republic wasn’t corrupt this kind of violence would be intolerable,” the Zygerrian complained.

Master Unduli was out of earshot, wind pulling on her robes just enough to expose the ankles of her boots. “Shut up or I’ll finish you off,” Anakin warned, quick to shut his own mouth up as she turned back toward them and began picking her way to their position once more. 

“He’s on his way,” She announced, “When he gets here, he’ll collect our outlaw, but I expect you to stay so you can shed some light on what it was I just witnessed.”

“Of course, Master,” Anakin answered, sure to keep his face as blank as he could while the Zygerrian snickered under his breath. 

She nodded silently, blue eyes locked on some unremarkable point out against the horizon. “You’ve just passed your trials recently, haven’t you, Skywalker?”

“Yes, Master,” Anakin said, forcing the Zygerrian in his grasp to follow along as he dipped into a shallow bow.

“And it hasn’t been too short a time for you to get cheeky about it, I see,” Anakin felt his stomach drop through his diaphragm. “Last time I saw you you were a gawky teenager, if you’d care to remember,” she chided him.

The shame on his face seared at his cheeks as the Zygerrian began to wheeze.

Master Unduli’s eyes made their way to their charge, regarding him cooly. “I wouldn’t be too smug if I were you either,” she said. “You’ve an entire treason sentence to look forward to.”

Anakin felt a bit of satisfaction as the Zygerrian deflated but Obi-Wan’s arrival did nothing to quell the rejection boiling hot under his skin. He could hardly look his master in the eyes as he brought the ship down a few hundred yards south of them.

“You know we really ought to get a move on. They’re awaiting us with a new assignment on Coruscant already,” Obi-Wan commented as he hauled their prisoner up into the cargo hold.

“There’s just one thing Skywalker and I need to see to before we make way,” Master Unduli told him. “Wait here. We’ll be back in just a moment.”

“Alright,” Obi-Wan griped. “But I don’t like it.”

“You promise you won’t tell him what you saw?” Anakin asked as she lead him down a dune and out of the ship’s sight line. 

“I’ve been thinking about that,” she confessed, tightening the ball of anxiety around Anakin’s larynx. “But it’s the custom of my people to be understanding of the transgressions of others.”

“Understanding?” Anakin probed. 

Master Unduli took a deep breath, lacing her arms behind her back so her shoulders drew ridged and her collarbone pushed up toward her chin. “I think you are who you are, Anakin,” she said to the emptiness of the landscape that had swallowed them. “There’s little I could ever do to change that. I would say not even Master Kenobi has that kind of power over you.”

Anakin found the toes of his own boots suddenly very interesting.

“All I can do to correct your course is offer direction,” she explained, turning so all he could see of her was the clean line of her profile when he dared to steal a glance at her. She had a soft face but that did little to mitigate the strength she projected. There was a delicate grace about her as she turned her head back to him, and her eyes were unreadable in the split second that they locked against his before he was cowed into looking away again.

“I’ve decided I’ll keep your secret,” she said and Anakin found himself watching the stark black of her lips despite his better instincts telling him to show her proper deference in this moment. “But I have a condition.”

“What is your condition, Master?” He asked. 

Here, she turned to him fully, lips pulling into something that could have been the ghost of a smile. “I only ask you allow me to teach you how to be careful,” she said.

“And how should I do that, Master?”

“Come to me,” she bid, strong fingers curling in the air, curling in the force so she tugged gently at the front of his robes.

Cautiously, he approached her, stopping just out of her reach. 

“Don’t be shy,” she told him. “I won’t bite you.”

“If I had a credit for every time a Master told me that before slamming me into a training mat,” he gripped as he closed the remaining gap between them.

Master Unduli considered him. “You’ve grown,” she commented idly. “But you’re still a boy who knows little about a living body.”

Anakin rolled his lips together and bit them to try and disperse some of his panic. 

“Pressure across the throat is dangerous for almost any species considering most of us breathe somewhat similarly,” she told him, drawing a manicured nail down the line of his adam’s apple. “If I were to press down here I could collapse your esophagus, leaving you to a slow and painful suffocation.”

Compulsively, Anakin swallowed the bundle of nerves gathering under his uvula. 

“But if I were to change the point of contact, I can put the pressure further back,” now the pads of her fingers ran soft over his jugular before skipping across and repeating the same path along his Carotid, pulling tingles of sensation along in her wake so goosebumps ran down his arms and back even despite the heat of the sun, “I can avoid damaging your airways while still cutting off the blood flow to your brain. A safer way to incapacitate an opponent.” 

“Thank you master,” he managed to say. His thoughts seemed to have suddenly scattered around his head like a cloud, each suddenly just distant enough from his mind to be beyond his reckoning. The black shine of her fingernails caught his attention and held it as she drew back again. 

“Now we try it,” she said.

Try what? Anakin thought blankly, eyes still caught on her hands as they each gathered a pinch of her robes. Gracefully, she sank to her knees in the sand, seemingly oblivious to the grains that slipped over the patches of their bare skin in the wind. She was very pretty, his mind told him absently as his nerves began to climb this throat again.

“Master,” he started, ready to ask what in the Force it was they were supposed to be doing now.

“Your hands, Anakin,” she said, tipping her head back so the lines of her neck stretched delicate beneath the black silk of her robes.

Anxiously, he glared at them, his own hands. They seemed crude and brutal in that instance. Not at all fit to be touching her with after whatever thrill it was nearly killing their quarry had sent through him. 

“Put them around my throat,” she said firmly and a stronger shot of that strange elation shot through his pelvis, ringing up his spine so his lungs ached for more air faster. 

Hesitantly, he followed her direction. She felt tiny like this. Just one of his hands wrapped nearly around the strength of her neck, gently groping at the shape of her. 

“Good,” she told him, adding more fuel to whatever idiocy she was indulging as her larynx moved under the heal of his thumb. “Now press down with your fingers, almost like you’re pinching,” she told him.

This order he followed almost instantly. As if unable to worry for the consequences once the permission had been given. His own breath caught as she gave a full swallow under his palm to adjust to the pressure. 

“That’s it,” she assured him, her own breath beginning to draw shallow. 

He felt half crazed when her muscles contracted in his grip. Desperate to reach for something more, his other hand found itself tangled in the edges of her veil, as it cupped around the back of her skull. If she’d been pretty in her knees, she was beautiful with her eyes closed and her mouth slightly agape so he could see the pink of her tongue behind the black of her lips. A smattering of mad thoughts ran through the space between his ears. Kissing her, holding her down against the sand, just doing something. There was a hot, kinetic mass forming just beneath his clavicle, his own muscles tensing with the excitement as her eyes cracked open, vivid blue eaten away by the black of her pupils.

“Fuck,” he said softly.

Her face was beginning to pink from the blood pooling under her skin. “You have strong hands,” she said, voice breathy.

Anakin’s knees nearly gave out when she ran a finger along the inside of his wrist, along the leather of his gloves, sending another wave of goosebumps cold over his skin. 

There was a dampness against his thigh, he realized with a sudden wave of shame just at the same time that her gaze made it’s way down to his groin. She gave a soft gasp and his cock surged almost painfully against the coarse silk of his pants. 

The urge to push her down and pin her bodily to the ground crested, shaking down his arms and legs as it broke against the strained reality of his physical from. He had to do something. Her mouth was so perfect another half mad thought told him and his cock ached so hard with it he actually groaned.

“It’s alright,” she told him.

Padme would be disappointed, the only rational part of his mind tried to reason. It would be a mistake, he told himself, trying to push back against the force of his own urges as the toes of his boots dipped into the sand under his weight. 

He curled down into her space, half way to kneeling himself, knowing it was too much for him to fight through when Obi-Wan’s voice filtered down from over the ridge.

“Is everyone alright?” He was asking.

Anakin froze, wide eyes locked on Master Unduli’s as her hands flew to his wrists. 

“Anakin,” she said, voice half panicked now.

It hit him so hard there might as well have been an impact. He couldn’t let go, he realized. He couldn’t do anything. He was frozen there under the pressure of his own lust as Obi-Wan stared down at them, uncomprehending from the top of the dune.

“Anakin, let go,” she hissed as Obi-Wan shouted.

“Anakin, what are you doing?!”

The shame was crippling in that moment, Unduli’s hands hard on his wrists, making him shudder. Wildly, he thought maybe this would be enough to finish him off, leaving him mortified for an eternity by whatever it was that was so clearly wrong with him but the Force had mercy.

Obi-Wan reached for him through it, jerking him back and away so he went sprawling across the sand, wind knocked soundly from his lungs. He lay there, gasping for air, blinded by the sun as Obi-Wan hurried his way down the dune to Unduli’s side to offer her a hand. 

“Anakin, what in the fuck has gotten into you?” His master demanded as he helped her to her feet. 

Anakin tried to cough an intelligible response out of his burning lungs but failed miserably, leaving Master Unduli to speak in his defense.

“He just got a bit excitable,” she said blandly. “Help the boy up. I’ll meet you on the ship.”

Shadowed by the harsh starlight as he looked down over Anakin, Obi-Wan seemed more confused than angry. “Did I interrupt something?” He asked.

“Probably for the best,” Anakin managed.

“Good,” Obi-Wan said. “Then you won’t hold it against me.”

It wouldn’t be rational to do so, no. But Anakin was very rarely rational as he was beginning to learn. A rational man wouldn’t have nearly nut his pants over the chance to choke Master Unduli. 

“Ready to get up?” Obi-Wan asked, offering him a hand and Anakin took it. 

“I think I’m going to need some time alone once we’re underway, Master,” he said, hiding his eyes under the warm leather of his glove as he steadied himself against Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said, patting him awkwardly on the back before they split away from each other. “Now don’t get lost limping back to the ship.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today’s lesson: Electricity and Aftercare

Master Unduli hadn’t even been with them on Secundus Ano which was good, because not that he’d had the chance but if he had, he was of every mind to avoid her on Padmé’s behalf. 

It was a tight mission without much room for error but despite all this, Obi-Wan’s exact words on the matter had been: “It’s just a bit of light reprimanding. We drop in, take this factory and we’re back to the Temple in no time at all.”

What he’d failed to mention was the sheer size of the factory. Not that he should have. It was a single factory supplying the entire sector with droids and potentially, Anakin could have come to this conclusion himself but he found it more satisfying to blame Obi-Wan anyway. Especially when, as luck would have it, the small size of their insurgency demanded they strategically split ranks. Obi-Wan going with his little garrison of troops to shut things down from the inside, leaving Anakin with the run-off in the staging bay against what seemed like an endless supply line of ready made battle droids for his only distraction.

Despite all this, Anakin felt he’d held himself quite well. Especially when the jamming frequencies went up and he lost contact with Obi-Wan completely. 

They hadn’t seen a single organic through the entirety of trying to establish themselves in the bay. Just a stupidly large contingent of B1s and 2s, most of whom seemed to be armed with electropoles. Just part of the Force’s sick sense of humor.

Steadily, Anakin advanced his ranks up the staging bay toward the front doors of the factory, keeping his men under as much cover as possible. They were doing well, he was telling himself. He hadn’t lost any bodies. The droids, stupid as ever, only seemed to give ground. What an idiot he was. Untested and foolhardy, he’d lead them all right into it.

The traps had opened up behind them, pits, concealed in the metal flooring, filed with webs of sticky thread that could have been synthetic if he wanted to believe they were synthetic but probably weren’t. He hadn’t had time to get a proper look at them before being barrel rushed into one by a grappling unit. 

A number of B2s formed up right above him, ringing the sky outside the pit he was trapped in with glowing metal and he only really had enough time to think ‘oh fuck’ before one of them jabbed him in the side with its electro pole. Instantly, all his muscles seized up, arching him back against the web he was already half tangled in, fusing his jaw, curling his toes. The pain screamed through his nerves like dull fire, aching along his spine and straight into the floor of his pelvis. His legs shook as the pole withdrew. Just the humid air was enough to make his lungs shiver. He hung tense in the aftermath, ready for another shock, labored breath laced with anticipation.

Just a few feet away, suspended upside down, his saber hung like a tantalizing promise, whispering of freedom in something uncannily similar to Obi-Wan’s voice. Anakin lunged for it, caught in the middle of his arc of motion by another firm prod in the ribs. 

It clenched his teeth as the current rolled through him, balling his hands into fists and tangling him further into the Harchian web. For what could have been milliseconds or eons, his vision faded almost entirely. Then, the current receded, letting his body relax again. The air felt more spread out suddenly. Like he couldn’t get a real breath. Colors looked a little brighter, a little too saturated and run together. Like a water color painting left out in the rain. His vision blurred as he tried to remember himself beyond the blind ache running from his cervical vertebrae all the way down to the tip of his cock.

His lightsaber was just a few inches outside of his grasp. If he just stretched, he could reach it, but the strong threads of the web had already had their say in the matter. Anakin fumbled, hands bound together in the space before him, legs really not far behind. It wasn’t hard to realize there wasn’t a chance in hell he was getting out of that pit without Obi-Wan coming to rescue him. He coughed, gagged, and swore as he tried to ring a panicked S.O.S. through his connection with his old master but all it earned him was another prod. The electricity crackled as it surged up through his body again, bouncing from muscle to muscle so loudly, all he could hear was the harsh thrumming of his heart in his ears as the world went black again.

He groaned openly as the pain receded once more, teeth still married from the resultant over firing in his synapses. His whole body felt like it had been pressed down into a corrupted holo recording. Physicality had lost all coherency, but he would have recognized the sound of a lightsaber anywhere.

Obi-Wan had heard him, he thought gleefully. They really did have the kind of connection most Masters could only ever hope to achieve with their Padawan. The thought made him kind of giddy. The back of his skull felt like it opened up at the prospect, raining confetti into the darkness of the pit beneath him. He hung like that, limp, unable to really move properly beyond the neurotic twitching of his appendages, listening to the sweet music of his master’s Light Saber cutting through all those stupid B2s like it was sublimating butter. 

But it wasn’t Obi-Wan’s voice that greeted him when saber song hit the silence that so often followed it. 

“Need a hand, Skywalker?” Master Unduli asked from somewhere above him. Visually, he couldn’t make her out, but through the force, she was unmistakable standing at the lip of the trap just a few feet above him. 

He tried to offer her an affirmative answer, but failed miserably, instead only managing a garbled groan and some nonsensical mumbling. 

“I admit this isn’t a bad view,” she said and through the Force, he could feel her appraising the situation much the same way she had on Jakku, separating him out like an interesting specimen, “Would you say you always enjoy electropoles so much?” 

Anakin couldn’t say anything let alone wrap his head around the question she was asking. “Up,” he managed after perilous seconds in which he felt his head was absolutely going to pop clean the rest of the way off. 

Master Unduli was becoming visually recognizable above him as a series of black geometric shapes. The rippling square of her veil seemed to turn thoughtfully.

“Why don’t you ask me nicely?” She asked.

Anakin’s mouth was dry. He swallowed hard. The seems of his clothes were so loud on his skin that alone might have killed him but she was uncompromising through the Force. A weird sort of energy surged the course of both his legs and his chest spasmed, drawing his lungs taught once more. She was going to hit him with it again, a part of his mind told him and a panic ran full blown through his every cell, followed by an odd kind of glee. So what if she did? it demanded of him. So what if she hit him with it again? She’d be disappointed, another thought answered, and that was the last thing he wanted. 

“Pl-“ he tried, tongue fumbling uselessly in his head. With his vision clearing, he could see her hold out a hand, green against the black of her robes, and summon one of the poles from the ground to her palm.

Instantly, his breath quickened. “Please,” he croaked, not really sure what it was he was begging for anymore. 

Master Unduli did actually smile at him this time. The corners of her black lips tugged up and her eyes softened, balling a knot of unrealized action at the base of his spine, making him struggle uselessly against the silk wrapped around his arms and legs again. 

“ _Please_ ,” he begged.

Her hands slid audibly along the length of the electro rod, black finger nails glinting on the shiny metal as she twisted the thing back to life. Just the sound of it crackling above him called back that same, half yearning panic. He couldn’t take his eyes off the thing, the way the charge circled its end like an uncontained LWRC. The kind of thing he’d grown up sticking his fingers into on Tatooine. 

She cast a glance over her shoulder before taking the pole more firmly in her hand. The air buzzed as its electrified head lowered toward him, teasing pulses of distant energy along his clothing so his skin vibrated with tension. She didn’t touch it to him, not fully like the droids had done. Instead, she glided it along the hard line of his thigh, just a few inches from contact so the charge reached out for him in arcs, dragging along like the ghost of a many fingered hand. 

Again. His teeth clenched and his back arched but with only a fraction of the force. With the current less intense like this, it was easier to recognize that he didn’t hate this so much. His cock ached but not unpleasantly.

“You are full of surprises, Skywalker,” she told him. 

The pole drew back, leaving him reeling in its wake. 

“Please,” he offered her again, still entirely undecided on whether he was asking to be released or for the torture to continue. 

“Very well,” she said. “I’ll pull you out. But only because you’ve been such a good learner.”

The words themselves were enough to solidify the aching in his groin. He wanted to relieve himself so badly he’d have done it there without thinking if it hadn’t been for the web binding him in place. 

“Patience, Anakin,” she told him as he felt her hand tighten around him through the force and begin to lift.

The metal flooring was hot from the harsh sun when he finally curled onto it, body still too spent from the convulsions to really support him properly. 

“Are you alright?” she asked, bending to check him over. Her hand was gentle on his back, comforting. He could have laid there forever in the sun, Jet letting her touch him that way if he hadn’t had such a deep desire to leave this planet and never return. 

“Yeah,” he managed to tell her, not really positive he was being entirely truthful but too tired to offer her anything else. 

“I’m going to help you up now,” she said.

He did his best to reach for her shoulders as her hands found grips under his arms and hauled him to his feet. They stood there, him swaying against the scaffolding of her body, one of her hands comforting on the small of his back for long and silent moments.

“You could have killed me with that thing and I wouldn’t have cared,” he commented, staring at the electropole now lying inert on the ground beside him.

“I wouldn’t have,” she assured.

“How did you even get here?” he asked, suddenly feeling a few degrees closer to being himself.

“Master Kenobi managed to get a signal out calling to reinforcements and I happened to be in the area,” she explained. 

That made sense. Anakin nodded and tried to step away so he could support his own weight but nearly met the steel he stood on teeth first, making her rush to catch him.

“Stay close,” she ordered, both hands firm on his waist.

And, genius that he was, what came out of his mouth was “Natch.” 

“It’s alright,” she assured him. “You did well. We just need to get you back to proper transport now.”

Around them, a number of her men were pulling his out of similar traps. 

He nodded. Getting back to the ship sounded nice. He wanted to lie down with his head in Obi-Wan’s lap and sleep the jitters off. She half walked him, half dragged him to her own transport, taking a seat on one of the utility bunks in the back and pulling his head down onto her knee. And he just let that happen. She was warm, and soft, and her hands felt like heaven in his hair as she used her fingers to comb out strands of silk from the web he’d been caught in. 

It took practically no time at all for the universe to drop away out of his cognition, and sleep to spirit him somewhere more comfortable, a simpler time when being held like this wouldn’t have been so out of the ordinary.


End file.
